


Reverie

by Bayb



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Knights - Freeform, Musketeers AU, inukag - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21972955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bayb/pseuds/Bayb
Summary: They didn’t care what the person was like, what they did to make money or rather how often they went to church. All they wanted was men, of every height, width, age.For now she knew, they knew, the world knew that Kagome Cadieux was a product of what a man wanted her to be.
Kudos: 2





	Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> Recounting the the thrilling tale by novelist Alexandre Dumas, ‘The Three Musketeers.’

Calling to her mother a second time that she would return within to her presence in a second, her voice echoing throughout the halls; she stood stationary. Kagome’s foot-fall reduced, waiting for her mother’s confirmation so she could proceed to her awaited destination. Even from a lengthy distance she could hear that her full attention was poured into mixing up their super, the cluttering and banging of metal pots assembling at her ears, justifying her assumption. With both her and her mother conjuring their daily meals, night and day, whether the weather suit their taste, their farm was found to be packed to the brim, one that was stocked of pigs, cows, chickens and though they stuck to their vegetables they grew many crops, including wheat, barley, oats, rye, and corn; also raising pumpkins, squash, and beans providing a variety in their harvesting. 

Normally it was in Kagome’s necessitate to take charge of fixing up their meals since she was in need of learning the correct cooking, baking and harvesting skills, additionally patience to boot, one that her mother had and willing to pass on for future preferences. However, this evening her mother had decided on making it, with some help of Kagome... of course. Two women were seen better as one in the kitchen. Unfortunately her calloused hands just weren’t from picking wheats rooted throughly into the acres of sloshy grounds _24/7_ , miraculously, or rather from clutching her bible for her vesper service close to her chest. 

They were not made fit for the work of a _proper woman._

That never meant that she didn’t try. Kagome tried her hardest to fit into her line of duty tremendously for her family’s name sake. She didn’t want her mother to carry an auxiliary of burdens of one having a _boy_ for a daughter. Her mother worked day in and day out for what they had, _very hard_ , it didn’t come served on a plate with a silver spoon and fork and not being of an English decent and living in the _‘Land Of Angels’_ as a foreigner it-self has only proved to be harder. Her mother’s English phrases were sloppy and her word’s such as _‘Is’_ often were pronounced as _‘Iz’._

She had ventured out here to the country England of the death of her late husband; also known as her father. A smile creeped on her face. Her père... from what she was told he was a heroic and noble French man, ready to die for the crown. And Kagome wanted to be everything and more like him. The stories her mother had spewed up about him as a child only added onto her fondness for him, recalling laying down in her bed in the comfort of a thin blanket wrapped homely around her tiny frame a nearby fire crackling as it’s surplus amounts of wood slowly striped open from it’s shell exposing a unsullied, pristine wood; it’s flakes only drifting into the night-fall, sheltered out by the true reality of what society wanted from her, she would tell the dashing tales upon tales of how he was once apart of _‘The Musketeers of Armed.’_ formed by their king and his duty that lead to their legacy being laid in France.

Only then she was allowed to dream of living that fate of following into his footsteps. Now... now she had no control of what her future was. From the moment, the _second_ the clock struck, she was born and the midwife had announced, _‘It’s a girl!’_ she was set to be a house-maid, to serve and please her husband till death due them apart. It was as simple as that. And if she ended like a widow like her mother, then so be it. They didn’t care. Maybe however they’d be kind to please her with a child... oh who was she kidding, there would be no pleasing in these type of relationship. But the thought still came, did Kagome want a child of a product of grief, sadness and regret of not being able to traverse; her true wish... she didn’t have that say. She would not be allowed to get a job for herself, to provide for herself, to be happy by herself. But to sulk and shallow herself in what her husband may of left her, whether that be riches or rags; she’d be left to die... alone. But it wasn’t death that scared her was it? No, not at all, Kagome had yet to be fearful of one fortune such as that... it was fate of being on one’s jack. Solus. Alone.

"D’accord! Soyez rapide Kagome."

Her thought’s being disturbed, snapping her head up at her mother’s foreign words informing her to make haste and come back. These words she used would only be spoke behind tightly closed doors, as they were in drastic need to fit in. England wasn’t a terrible place to live, but it was no secret that if they were caught up living in the city rather than the countryside, it would be seen as mandatory for them to work; as children were deemed more fit and suitable for labour. Kagome had learnt the language of French by her mother at the beautiful youthful age. When learning she was stranger to the language of England, therefore her only struggle was learning two languages at once. Once mastering her pronunciation, voicing and delivery for them both, she too helped her brother learn their mother language.

"Oui Maman! "

Her brother. That’s correct, she was off to meet him just now. Subsiding any thought’s of her future, as she had become accustomed too, dismissing her brown studying. She could not spend her time selfishly, she had a family to look after and right now her thoughts betrayed her duty.  Kagome began to walk in the direction of where her brother, Souta, was normally cooped up. Prior to this, he had informed her that he had important news to share that she could just tell by the look on his face he was dying to portion. The look he wore on his face was one that was full of animation as he spoke discreetly of the information he had yet to tell. His vigorous self was painted in a rush of pink, exploding on his face as his eyes shone, beaming, emitting a light of determination and true happiness. It was one she had seen him wear daily, one that she envied. Halting her walk she sighed deeply. Although it was more than hard to admit, she had learnt over time that her thoughts weren’t just passing one’s, rather they were solid and weren’t leaving. She envied the life of a man but to envy the life of her brother... it was one that she could never let slip past her lips whilst she could still breathe. 

She crushed her lip. Kagome believed that she hadn’t looked the way he radiated since she was a small child, free to explore, being in her true prime to wish on as many shooting stars as she seemed fit. Now their were adamantine chains crossed all over her body, ones that held signs of rules she must abide by; restricting her of reaching her full potential. Enclasped, trapping her wrists in place she would never be able to reach her full potential. Society held that from her, they held her back from her full-potential that she would never truly know if she was able to reach. Would she ever look good in silk? She wouldn’t know. Would she be able excel in grammar school? She wouldn’t know. Would she save a life by learning her grounds to become a doctor? She wouldn’t know. Would she ever, dare her say... fall in love? She wouldn’t know. A farmer? A lawyer? A teacher? They would never find out. 

But something so small, ever so small kindled deep within her. So deep it was flickering, wavering as it wasn’t necessarily on but it was definitely was not out. And she knew, only she, held this unyielding faith that something could incite. But for now she knew, they knew, the world knew that Kagome Cadieux  was a product of what a man wanted _her_ to be.

Without her knowledge her feet had been slowly carrying her en-route to were Souta was. Down the hallway from their kitchen through the bends of their home stood the door were he stayed. Slowly, simultaneous slipping back into the world around her she noticed that struggles of breath began to hit her ears, grunts of frustration and breaths of persistence. Right... Souta came first. After all he was the only male of the family. He would be responsible to pass on the _‘Cadieux’_ name, right? How many time’s would she have to remind herself? It was becoming old! This behaviour was nothing new of Kagome, she was the one who held the hands of a man for a reason, though she liked to believe she was born this way. Was she allowed to even wish that? When she could, which wasn’t often, she liked to take these little moment’s when all the work was complete, the dishes were stacked, the cows were milked and her mother was out of sight to do exactly this. Pulling back the drapes of a chintzy curtain that had been blinding her view, she ripped them back, proceeding walking into the area were her younger brother stood broad and tall. 

Here he was beckoned draped in sweat forming from the tips of his flimsy opaque hair curling down to his eyes that were slanted in concentration. Dressed down in the material of what a man should sport, not a _boy_. Draped in a navy blue tabard that had white stitching that had reduced from its original form from age, it was stamped with the symbol of bravery a golden fleur-dis-lis embroidered in the centre. It was a simple design that happened to hold a whole lot of history, one this country simply wouldn’t understand, it was simply intriguing without being ostentatious. _Père_. Kagome mused in her head. Contrary to his tabard underneath it so happened to be peaking out was his magnolia linen shirt suited with it’s collars, appearing to tight. Ahead of him stood his hard earned work, his target practice being a dull, lifeless hay-bag stuffed with hay that was left weeping out from it sides and neck spilling out carelessly mirroring his blood would. Here stood endless training that came with a side of sedulous care. The life of... the life of a true knight. 

His swings of the rapier were held scrupulously in his hand, were this death of his opponent would be enveloped there was reflecting glints onto his face of the earths warm sunset; divulging the true adolescence of the boy. His steps being truly well assembled for someone so young of age. Knowing exactly when to place his foot forwards to dart his arm out, frankly he was taught well. But she couldn’t help but take notice to his stance being to close together for her liking, easily fixed. With her final thoughts polished off she walked straight, steadily, to him.

"Look at you go!” Kagome projected out half-heartedly; hopefully he didn’t take notice to how defeated she had previously felt.

And just like that, within a spur of a moment Souta’s step’s were measly crumpled together and he was beginning to lose his balance. All Kagome could do was watch his composure falter ever so slowly in front of her, the decency to help wasn’t even an option as she stood there awaiting his fall. Stumbling on his supporting foot it only brought his structure tumbling downwards and with an breath kindling deep in his chest it seized outwards in a puff of air; he landed on his bottom, dropping to his feet. The clang of metal surrounded her ears resulting in her physically reacting to the metal reverberating around the serene area, shoulders sprinting upwards she was instantly met with Souta’s protests.

"Kagome!” Souta furrowed his eyebrows at his older sister disapprovingly.

" _What!”_ Her voice became a few octaves higher as she feigned her innocence. Biting her cheek, blemishing it in the process, she held back her laughter as his eye’s only resulted in boring bigger holes into her. Redirecting her vision from the smaller boy to the abnormal quantities of stacks. 

Shaking his head he regained his posture to his previous stance as he began dusting off the sparsely bits of hay that were littered accidentally on the wooden flooring. What was judged as a hayloft to many these two Higurashi’s had adjusted this room for the last few years into a training area for their _‘hobbies’_. It was a wide area and other than the rolls of hay that were either built up in squares or circles, the rest of the area was covered in porous wood, that was built up into a ridged roof supported by numerous purlins horizontally fixed and rafters fitted. Some of the wood was weeping through from the dampness of the poor weather. It had absorbed abnormal amounts of water and it had lead to some areas appearing darker than others. When the sun shone it would create a streak through the cracks, variegating colours irregularly, that were either made from them duelling or the wood becoming aged and chipping away slowly, as it cascaded downwards onto the duo.

Glancing downwards to were Souta was once sitting she took notice of the rapier he had dropped; he was yet to return it back to his side. A lightbulb igniting in her head, the rustiness of the wheels were no longer robust and adapted quickly in her head. Rushing on forwards, bending downwards - hastily - picking up the rapier as it was now in her aid. 

Gripping it between her fingers, one by one they slowly enclasped onto the grip of the rapier. Assiduous with how she raised it her vision met Souta’s as she cocked her head to the side at his agape mouth. This very rapier she held and weld, was the same exact one her father wield too. This very one was the one he had lunged, plunged and swiped all to protect their royal family. It was an heirloom to their name, one that was valuable in their eyes; not to the next. It was a sword consisting of a slender, willowy build, structured with a sharply pointed two-edged blade; it meant so much and more.

Almost like he knew exactly of what she was going to remind him of he quickly spoke, trying his hardest for his stunned expression to stupefy himself.

"I only dropped it for three seconds most—.”

"Three seconds, three minuets, three hours. Their all the same to your opponent Souta.” She sung out his name directing the point of the rapier to his calves.

"And don’t let me remind you again of the spacing with your legs. Their should be enough space—.”

"—Enough space that Buyo could pass through, I know! I’ve only been told like a million times.”

"Stop with the exaggerations... It’s only been at least one thousand.” She knew he could hear the smile in her words, their was no reason to check if-so. Buyo was their not-so-little cat they had a few years ago. It wasn’t exactly theirs, just a farm cat that wondered consistently, he was a stray. Unfortunately they couldn’t afford to look after a cat, they had plenty of animals to tend to and one day he happened to halt his daily visitations, but his memory stayed with the siblings. He caught the vermin’s: mice, rats and the mass stories of hares, no doubt he had many qualities that succoured the family; forbye their practices.

Kagome and Souta both shared a deep interest in becoming soldiers for the crown; their père love being passed down to them. With Kagome being older than her brother she could only dream about fulfilling her hearts desire. Souta was lucky, he had elite training from some of the best soldiers England had. He was what the British crown wanted in their soldiers: males. Frankly they didn’t care what the person was like, what they did to make money or rather how often they went to church. All they wanted was men, of every height, width, age.

Kagome was charmed since Souta had taught her a few valuable lessons that she was not allowed to participate in. She was especially jammy that he had been as nice as he was, not everyone’s brother disobeyed their crown to satisfy their sister. He was a heaven-sent kid. 

But eventually, Kagome had learnt on her own. She couldn’t hold Souta back to pass on their hidden lessons and secret tips to her, it wasn’t proper. So she ended up getting glimpses of men training when she had to headed down into town, it was a outing that was filled endlessly of greenery, hills on top of hills sprouting with diverse selection of flowers, weeds and vegetables nestled by farmers; sundry of other little delicacies. Upon arriving at the town the rest consisted of drunk men getting booted out of bars, women throwing their purity away and children swept in dust and dirt; thoroughly. She went on her mother’s behalf of either sending off letters, taxes or even selling some of their animals had consisted of seeing The King’s men visit in early hours in the morning to announce speeches which usually ended in brawls with rowdy uncooperative civilians.

She admired the way they slung and clashed their weapons with one another, the metal they were adorned in from head to bottom. Catching onto how they would you raise their noses and chins forwards so they could always see their opponents every direction, every move. Their stances never being slouched, their chest stuck forwards as their back bent inwards creating the perfect posture.

There was just one thing that just didn’t sit right with her, it was a uncomfortable feeling built up in her chest that if she even tried to swallow, it wouldn’t trickle down due to how big it had built up. And that was disobeying her mother. She never told Souta that he couldn’t become a knight, but that was the reason she left France after all. All her childhood and adulthood memories in addition to the love with her husband was laid alive in France; one she simply refused to acknowledge and bury. That candle kindling their love was never blown out, she couldn’t, wouldn’t and shouldn’t bring herself to do this; not alone anyway, not without her lover. So she didn’t. She left without a word of a proper explanation other than her own reasonings.

Breaking her train of thoughts she simply shook her head from left to right, hoping to shake away the thoughts; they only went into the depths of her mind only to seep back out later.

"So... what did you want to see me about?”

It was Souta’s turn to withhold his thinking and returned back to his sisters sight.

"Oh... uhm, It don’t matter.”

Kagome squinted her eyes at him "Doesn’t Souta, and what do you mean you were practically ecstatic to tell me yesterday?”

"Yes, well I’m not anymore.”

"And that’s because...”

The younger boy groaned turning his feet to start walking away "Just drop it Kagome.”

"H-Hey! Hang on!” She pulled on his sleeve as he tried to briskly walk past her. Pulling him backwards to turn to face her she was only met with an unimpressed face. What was this change of attitude about? Had she upset him?

"Tell me.”

"No.”

"Why?”

"Because.”

"Because?”

"...Because.”

"What! Souta!” Before Kagome knew it he was out of her grip moping away and walking out of her sight. The loss of material from his sleeve left her hands to join together. Was he ill? Why was he acting this way. That look on his face when consulted her about this was full of so much hope, how could it dissipate like this. It couldn’t. It wasn’t humanly possible, something was eating him up. 

"Souta je ne discute pas avec toi à ce sujet!” His tracks stopped and shoulders hinged upwards as soon as her exchange of languages hit his ears. There was a initial surprise in her change of languages, he tried to make it unnoticed but, nothing went unnoticed by Kagome. It was impossible to stifle anything by Kagome; it was a blessing in disguise.

Striving to appear nonchalantly he turned to face his older sister with the intention of withholding his last answer as his final answer; she wouldn’t corrupt it.

"Look Kagome...”

And as he looked at her, he realised it wasn’t a hold of anger she expressed towards him. It was one of sadness spilling over her features, worry was only present. Her assumptions were probably gnawing at her brain that she had done something to dampen his mood. That wasn’t right. Sighing he washed a hand down his face contemplating his former attitude and revealed a new mien of reassurance and oath.

"Later. I promise later.”

* ⠀ * ⠀ *

Later didn’t exactly mean today. Later could of meant either later in the day, the week or even the month to that extent. Since their talk occurred that fateful evening, Souta had dragged himself to his bedroom and hadn’t bothered to leave the solitude of it for the past following hours. No sounds of movement managed to meet her ears, footsteps or tip-toeing for the matter; the creeks had proved that it was possible. So what was the matter? What Kagome didn’t need, was to bother him into telling her to the point were he didn’t feel like telling her at all.

Placing the final pot on the damp towel, Kagome released a long awaiting sigh. Taking the back of hand and drying it on her dress she brought up a hand and wiped it on the base of her forehand, slowly she took in her surrounding. Perched on her knees she was bent over a large silver brass pot, around its base had a bronze ring were it had been previously burnt from roaring flames on nights the family diversified their food, it was one that was continuously replenished with water; having finished washing up. Grains of barn stayed afloat in the water drifting solemnly around. The sun was no longer projecting on their accommodation and rather in it’s place stood the moon’s light stunning down on her. If only her mother saw her now. Knees a centre-meter deep in mud, hair thrown slovenly around her shoulders, her sleeves drenched in water clutching onto her wrists. Crouched down she took in the nature, closing her eyes, around her.

The crickets chirping were hardly deafening as they went around their night without taking notice of her. Dripping of water every couple of seconds forming, hanging then gracefully falling spattering onto the surface of the floor. Nature’s wind calling past her softly moving the frills of dress around, flapping upwards; the breeze cooling her down. Birds calling out for their children, bullfrogs croaking, branches crackling, bumblebees buzzing. Melancholy. It was just simply melancholy. The beauty of it all was nature didn’t care of her being a _her_. It carried on without a thought. That was the true gift of it.

Dropping her neck backwards were the tight bones were formed she untied the knots by cracking them. Eyes still sealed shut to the world her mind drifted backwards to her conversation earlier with Souta. He was just so quick, too quick, to deny her of any truth in the matter and her curiosity had only been peeking through the day. _What to do next?_ She thought. What was there to do next? It’s not like she didn’t want to feed her curiosity but she believed in good time he’d get back to her. Oh well. _I’ve still got the washing to hang and need to pack up all this bran._ Securing a solid hold on the pot’s sides she heaved it inwardly a hitch in her breathe from bringing it upwards, turning it upside down she washed out the dirty water leaving the boat to be dipped dry.

Gathering all the other pots and pans in a un-lady like manner she pushed them close her chest as she began wiggling her knees out of the mud. Standing, she felt the coolness of the dirt sink in, her knees, bare, it had long dried from the countless hours she had been cuddled up under the moon. Reaching downwards she wiped off what she could of the small particles of the crumpled sections of mud latching onto her wrinkly fingers. Meeting her thumb and index finger she wiped all of remnants off before taking a sharp left to make headway to the house only to be abruptly challenged.

"Dammit— _Souta!_ You scared me lifeless.”

The boy stood silent only presenting a small smirk to her as she rearranged her handling on the cookware. Lifting her knee up to bring some of them that had fallen slightly out of her grip she shuffled it upwards back in her arm’s. Frowning at him she carried on.

"It’s late, you shouldn’t be up now.”

"I know—.”

“Haven’t you got training tomorrow?” Kagome quizzed looking puzzled at the boy.

“Yes, but I was hoping to—.”

"Hoping I’d let you miss your lesson ay?” She lightly joked with him, her eyes creasing. Suddenly moaning in discomfort of her positioning she ushered at the boy. "Could you get the door for me, please.”

A light sigh escaping his lips he quickly fastened his gait by jogging up ahead, in pursuit of her not recognising it for a sign of defeatism he hurried, careful to keep his eyes open and inquisitive for any critters that could be straying around. His boots were measly on his feet, his ankles not properly fitted to the heel of the boot. Creating a slushy sound in the process of his steps the strands of grass tickling the exposure of skin on his ankle as he dipped in and out of his jumps Kagome’s light footsteps following close behind. Eventually reaching the door he pushed it open, with it being unlatched, keeping it open with one hand and letting her through first. In passing movement she met his eyes and politely thanked him waddling her way through the living area and straight towards the kitchen. Releasing her grip on the pots and onto the wooden surface she began individually packing them away like she never even stopped working.

“Oh and don’t latch the door Souta, I’m going back out.”

Like she never spoke her voice was outweighed by the sounds of cutlery and cookware being crammed away in corners of cupboards. The paste her arm’s were moving was one that didn’t quite suit the task she was being obligated to complete. It was times such as these Souta realised how hard his sister really worked.

"How come?”

Turning her head to face his she answered him with gestures moving her hands around. "I’ve got washing to hang and bran to collect, won’t take long.”

"Well I can help?” He inched closer to his older sister.

Releasing a breathy laugh she closed the cupboard and moved back to the other pans she deposited. "I know you can Souta, I know.” Giving him a small smile she reached up to his head ruffling his locks of inky hair.

"I don’t need it though, I’m fine.”

Without missing a beat Kagome found herself back into the routine of dashing everything away, like Souta’s presence was never there to begin with. It hurt, because he knew how much _she_ hurt. And there wasn’t much he could do except watch. He wanted to set things right. But could he? Could a boy as small as he do such a task? He was taught that his answer was final, he had the stronger agility, the bigger mind, the higher ranking so his way of thinking was right. So that meant that his conclusion he submitted had to be right, right?

Right.

"Kagome.”

The change of tone had alarmed her slightly but not enough to be overly concerned. Turning to her brother she was met with a polar opposite his eyes were clear as mud but his change in physiognomy was just to hard to pass by.

"Souta...” her reply was met with no utterance but rather a look that was full of ambiguous. Backwards he walked to were the table was behind him and pulled out a chair, nodding at her to sit.

Dropping all her previous tasks like they weren’t consuming her time a second ago she obeyed and met his adjure. Sitting on the wooden seat she moved around trying to sit comfortably without appearing nervous. Souta began walking around the circular table pulling out his own chair careful to make it not screech on the tiles he threw himself down.

"Is... Is this about earlier.”

No answer. Instead his shoulder had halted upwards, his hand began digging about in his pocket for something. Kagome could only watch as it felt as time stopped around her and the only movement happening was Souta’s arm. Suddenly, a crunch had resounded interrupting the silence. He dug out a piece of paper that had creased, most likely from overtime, he clutched it in his hands like it was his life force; his veins prodding out from his grip.

"I received this letter four days ago. Upon opening it I was simply elated with what it said—”

Smiling fondly at the image that conjured in her mind of his face mimicking his words.

"But the more I thought about it, what it was offering me... It just didn’t sit right. No matter how many scenarios I played in my head, I couldn’t imagine me for what they wanted.”

Finally meeting Kagome’s eye’s he smiled, truthfully smiled this time round, these last days had been one’s of smirks and forced smiles. She could tell how faux they were; but this, this was real. _I’m doing the right thing, I am. I know it._ And with that final thought he slid the paper across to her her. She didn’t even look down, still staring at her brother. What was he implying? Who is offering what exactly? Inching her head downwards his gaze still not leaving hers, her peripherals proving so, reluctantly she brought her hands from her lap and took the letter in her own hands. It was warm. For as flimsy as it was, it weighed her down humongously. And even though she knew she wasn’t, she felt her body inch downwards at the action.

Pulling it up to her vision she leisurely raised her other arm. From what she make out it was writing for sure, the squiggly word’s were faint but intelligible. She began peeling back the folded crease making the spine of the paper sit right. Then she was met with cursive inked writing cascading all the way down to the bottom of the page. It felt like she should be touching this. It wasn’t for her. It felt like... like royalty. This type of writing was reserved for the high-status individuals with professional hierarchy. So why was she holding onto this. Why was it in Souta’s hands? Straightening the back of the paper she proceeded in scanning the words. Foreign. They were foreign words. But still she sat there reading it like it was no big deal what language it was in. French. It was French. Finishing it she was certain she dozed off whilst scrubbing the pots, maybe a little to hard. Dumbfounded at what this was exceptional one-in-a-lifetime benefaction. To top it all off the signature proving that this was not in-fact a joke in Souta’s favour, rather signed by _the_ officer himself _‘Monsieur de Tréville’_.

Shooting her head up, her hair ebony hair whipping backwards it fell in slow motion cascading around her. Her eyes, tawny, expanded in shock there was a tremor in her voice. Her lips felt chapped and her tongue, unquestionably dry. She found it in her to convey what she was thinking over and over and over in her head as it banged on the bars mankind had wield up eventually breaking, her de règle no longer calculating as she bellowed out.

"Y-Your going to be a Musketeer!”

Worries were instantaneously flooded away, like they never present to embark with. His strength coming from her reaction, warmth went through him. _I’ve made the right choice._ "No... you are Kagome.”


End file.
